


The Welcome Invasion

by TakeMeOut



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeMeOut/pseuds/TakeMeOut
Summary: “I know it’s not enough to touch yourself, Clara. Someone else’s touch helps, just enough. Enough to get through this. I … I found that out myself.” His deep voice is gentle. “I can help you, if you want me to.”Clara needs help of a very specific kind.





	The Welcome Invasion

By the time he finally finds Clara, huddled on the floor of the wardrobe room with her face buried in her arms, he’s frantic with worry. He flings himself through the door, but jerks to a halt as he notices her body shaking faintly; she doesn’t look up. 

After a moment of hesitation, the Doctor sits cautiously next to her, close but careful not to touch her. He folds his long legs up and wraps his arms around them; she shudders once, and he sighs. 

Clara grits her teeth, taking a deep breath, and speaks without looking at him. “You still haven’t properly explained what this … thing is.”

He breathes out. “It’s hard to explain exactly. It’s a substance that doesn’t quite have an equivalent on earth - it’s like a cross between a hormone and an enzyme. A sort of macrobiological catalyst … and it appears it has a very specific effect on humans. Evidently humans have never visited that planet before, since the locals knew nothing about what it would do to you.”

She snorts humorlessly. “An uber-aphrodisiac, then. Some bloody cocktail that was.” A tremor runs through her body again. She finally looks at him, and sees his brow furrowing over his blue eyes. “Why aren’t you being weird about this? This is the kind of thing you get weird about.”

He gives her a strange, appraising look. “I’ve seen this before.” 

She looks questioningly at him. “Where was this? And who was it?”

He’s quiet for a minute, then speaks with obvious reluctance, looking at his boots. “It was me. It was a different substance, and a different planet, but I understand how you’re feeling. How … difficult it is.”

Clara looks at her own feet, and waits for him to continue. “I know that you can’t … deal with it yourself. That it’s not enough on your own. But I can’t take you to earth, to other humans. It’ll only spread, and cause chaos. We have to wait until it’s worked its way out of your system.”

“How long will that take?”

He shrugs briefly. “I’m not sure exactly. Maybe only a few hours, if it’s dealt with correctly.”

“Dealt with correctly? I thought you said there’s nothing you can give me?”

Sweat is beginning to bead on her forehead, and she tightens her arms around her legs, resting her head on her knees. He grimaces wryly, but his hawkish face is kind. “I can’t, exactly. Nothing medical, anyway.” He bites on the side of his thumb, watching her. 

“I know it’s not enough to touch yourself, Clara. Someone else’s touch helps, just enough. Enough to get through this. I … I found that out myself.” His deep voice is gentle, and its lilt is comforting. “I can help you, if you want me to.” 

She briefly wonders who helped him, and what exactly happened to him, before an overwhelming flood of arousal pools between her legs and renders her speechless for a few moments. When she recovers, her voice is slightly hoarse. “And what happens if it’s not ‘dealt with’?”

His eyebrows pull together. “I’m not sure exactly. But it wouldn’t be pretty, mentally or physically.” His worry is almost palpable as he sighs again. “I’m sorry, Clara. This is such an … invasion.”

In reply, she reaches out and clutches his hand. “Please help me.”

He nods briefly, shifting to sit behind her. As he slides his long legs either side of her, the hairs stand up on her arms as he leans softly against her. His fingers unzip her trousers with agonising slowness, and even as she wills herself to stillness her legs slide apart of their own accord. Lazily, and with a confidence she doesn’t expect, he slides his fingers inside her underwear, and she bites her lip to stop herself begging him to go faster. 

After what feels like a lifetime, his long, capable fingers brush lightly over her core, and she feels his exhalation on the back of her neck as her face becomes flushed and her pulse accelerates. His fingers slip between her folds with a skill and assurance that astonishes her, and her legs jerk with pleasure. 

He massages around her clit until she groans involuntarily, and he slips his middle finger inside her to search out the spots that make her breathing ragged with delight. 

Clara’s head falls back on his shoulder, and as her body gradually melts back into his, the last rational part of her mind realises with amazement that he’s hard. That he wants this as much as she always has done, since the first day she met him. 

With her last shred of control, she grips his hand to stop him moving. Her voice is faint. “What if I want more than this?”

He breathes out sharply, and doesn’t move. She hears him swallow before he speaks into the skin of her neck. “You don’t want that. This is just your … your condition talking.” Her fingers tighten on his wrist; her fingernails dig into his skin. Her voice sounds unreal, as if she’s dreaming, and her head spins with disbelief that she’s voicing this. “I do. I always have, Doctor. Surely you know that.” 

Clara reaches back and touches his soft, thin lips with her fingers. His mouth opens slightly, and he pulls his hand out from inside her trousers and runs his tongue over his fingertips, tasting her. 

She only remembers flashes of what happens next. The Doctor mouthing along her neck with a desperation that echoes hers. The way she pulls on the back of his head with both hands, frantic to taste more of his tongue in her mouth. His hand stroking firmly across her breast, under her top, making her push up into his touch. The weight of his body on hers as he undoes his trousers with one hand. The soft skin and heavy hardness of his cock in her hand, and the exquisite stretching inside as he pushes slowly into her. The way her whole body seems to reduce to the sensation of his insistent thrusts inside her as her orgasm builds. How the tendons in his neck stand out as he comes shortly after she does. Her sudden awareness of the raw physical power in his body that he disguises for reasons best known to himself. The impression that there’s nothing soft about him; that he’s all sinew and hard edges. 

He kisses her softly for a while, afterwards, as she regains her senses. “How are you feeling?”

She blinks, and sits up, feeling the relief of her release. “Definitely better.” She looks at him, but his face is impassive. He’s waiting to see what she’ll say.

Clara smiles, and his eyes soften with relief. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “For the help. For everything.” She leans forward and sucks gently on his bottom lip, and he licks at her teeth. “Any time you need a hand, I’ll be here.” 

She grins at him. “I’ll bear that in mind.”


End file.
